Christmas Gift
by Thingygazinga
Summary: Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. AU. Annabeth doesn't like Christmas. Not really, anyways. Well, maybe.


Her fingers were turning numb, and her cheeks felt dry. Annabeth clutched the hot chocolate tighter in her hands, trying to transfer the heat. Her nose scrunched up as she rushed to her home, fumbling for the keys stuffed in her jeans as another gust of wind almost knocked her hat off.

As she stepped in her house and shook off the excess snow onto the once fuzzy carpet under her, the hot chocolate tipped and a stream of the brown liquid streamed out of the innocent little slit on the cap and onto her coat. Annabeth groaned and set the drink down, glancing at the big, ugly spill on her white jacket. She glanced around the house, taking in the Christmas lights carelessly decorating the staircase, not even on. The fir tree was stuffed in the corner of the living room, looking sad and lonely. Like the house.

She sighed, not even bothering to call for her dad. Knowing him, he was probably on his computer, searching up his professor stuff. The only sound that clued that there was one more occupant in the house was the constant whir of the printer going off.

Annabeth kicked off her boots, picked up her hot chocolate and coat, then trudged upstairs into her room. She trailed her hand on the wooden railing of the staircase, making sure to balance the cup in her hand to avoid spilling again. On her way, she tossed her coat into the laundry room, then opened her door and shut it behind her. It was oddly quiet without the twins, Bobby and Matthew, running around. They were probably off with their mom at a skating rink or something. Annabeth paused for a moment, ticking off the list of where all of the people she knew were. Thalia was in Malibu with her little brother and his girlfriend. Luke was in Massachusetts, visiting his dad. Grover went over to his grandparent's house over the weekends and was staying there for another week. And here she was, bored out of her mind in her home, feeling like it was just any old day.

She remembered when she was seven years old and her dad had been happy and single and not as busy. Every Christmas, he would prop her up onto his shoulders, spin her around, and they would spend the rest of the day together listening to crappy Holiday music and if there was snow, they would build an igloo together. Her dad would always buy her some sweet, sentimental present and Annabeth would give him something hand made that he would hang up and marvel over, no matter how child-ish it was. They'll end the night with a movie.

She quickly changed into her fuzzy pajamas that was made up of lopsided, cartoon owls with big, black glasses perched on each beak and a "Too smart for you." text in big, block letters printed on the front.

Annabeth jumped on her bed with a book, sighing. Yeah, she knew that now she was too old to be carried around on her dad's shoulders again, but sometimes she wished that he would take some time off and actually notice and care for her for once. She stuck her finger in the place where the funky snowman bookmark was, and pried open the paperback book as she sipped the hot chocolate.

It seemed that this was how she was going to spend her Christmas.

Just as she was about to finish Chapter 15, the doorbell rang. For a second, Annabeth sat there, confused. The intricate chimes pealed again, echoing around the empty house another time. Then a third. Annabeth huffed and placed the snowman bookmark back into place, annoyed. Seriously, who was this desperate? Was it another charity person, or those carolers? Her bed creaked as Annabeth bounded down the stairs, too miffed to realize that the nerdy owls on her pajamas were probably not the most appropriate wear to face an outsider with.

She unlocked the door, and pulled it open, peeking out and putting on her best "Go away. I'm busy face."

Instead, Annabeth was met with a robust voice, almost shouting "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" and a plate of oddly colored cookies shoved in her face. She stared at the blue pastries that smelled heavenly, seriously puzzled. She looked up at the boy, trying to recall if she knew him or not.

He was tall, taller than her (which was kind of obnoxious) and had a mass of messy, raven black hair that was glistening with stray snowflakes. His nose was red and he had a blue beanie on, all bundled up in a blue coat. (what was with him and blue?) But the thing that caught her attention was his bright sea green eyes, shining with the "Christmas spirit" that Annabeth was sure was 800 miles from her own eyes. She debated on whether to greet him, ask him what the heck he was doing, or slam the door in his face.

"It's Christmas. Not Blue day." was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Inside, Annabeth immediately flushed and face palmed. Seriously? That was the smartest thing she could think of? But on the outside, she kept her face stoic, refusing to be embarrassed when she didn't even know the dude.

Surprisingly, the dude's cheeks turned a more vibrant color than his nose. (Annabeth decided right then and there that she would just dub him Rudolph.) He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

"Yeah. I know it's supposed to be green and red, but in my defense, the person who started Christmas should've included blue as the...symbol? I guess. Of Christmas, too," he said. Then he glanced at her clothes. "Are those...owls?"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. Suddenly she felt deep rue on not slamming the door in Rudolph's face. "Yeah. Got a problem?"

"No, no! It's cool! I have Nemo pajamas!" he said. His blush returned. "Not...that you needed to know that."

Annabeth unwillingly smiled. She vaguely remembered Rudolph as the boy who went to the same school as her and would skateboard past her house every school day (or any day fitting to skateboard) with his head down and a navy blue backpack pulled over his shoulder.

She pulled open the door a little bit more, but not so much that she would get blasted with snow and wind and shut the door while shivering and rubbing her fingers together, regretting even opening the door in the first place.

"So..." Rudolph began awkwardly. "Umm...there's chocolate chip, oatmeal, peanut, sugar, white chocolate, raspberry, blueberry, and snickerdoodles. You could choose five." he waved his hand over the dozens of cookies that were protected by a thin piece of plastic wrap. Annabeth tilted her head, not knowing what to say.

"Um...which one would you recommend?" she asked. Rudolph beamed as he started rambling about how the chocolate chip and blueberry and snickerdoodles were obviously the best and how oatmeal was too healthy and that sugar was too plain and that white chocolate were just copycatters of the original chocolate chips and that raspberries were too red. Annabeth found herself smiling at him. Rudolph seemed like a cool guy and he was kind of cute. She frowned. Wait what?

Rudolph must have saw her change in look, because he immediately stopped talking, his ears turned red, and he looked down at his boot clad feet.

"Sorry. You must think I'm crazy. I swear I'm not!" he said throwing his free hand up and almost dropping the plate of cookies. Rudolph scrambled to regain his balance again, fumbling with the plate until he had his hold on it again. Annabeth laughed as she pulled back her hands once she was sure he wouldn't fall again. Then she realized that her laugh could've been taken the wrong way and sound mean, and she froze mid laugh.

There was a silence as they both looked around nervously, not knowing what to do next. Annabeth gathered up her courage, smiled (again), and requested the oatmeal and chocolate chips. She kind of hoped that her dad might come out of his office with the treat of the oatmeal cookies, his favorite.

"Thank you," she said as Rudolph whipped out a plastic baggie from his coat pocket and helped her fill it with the cookies. Surprisingly, it was still kind of warm.

Rudolph beamed at her and Annabeth couldn't help but feel a little bit warmer.

"Sooo...I'll be going now?"

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks, again."

"No problem." Rudolph winked and turned to walk away. Her door was still opened as she watched him walk away, and suddenly an almost desperate feeling turned in her chest.

"Wait!" Annabeth called. "At least give me your name!"

"Percy Jackson!" he yelled back, his head turning a bit towards her as he slowed down his steps to the next house.

"Annabeth Chase! Pleasure to meet you!" she yelled. He did a backwards salute and Annabeth chuckled.

She closed the door. The day was feeling a little bit more like Christmas, she noticed. But there was one last thing to do.

She ran up the stairs, filled with a new purpose. She marched to her dad's office, slamming it open.

Her dad whirled around, his brown eyes wide with shock. His blonde hair was wild like he hadn't combed it in days. It reminded her of Percy Jackson, the boy with the cookies, and she smiled brightly at her dad.

Annabeth dangled the plastic baggie in her fingers, giving him a clear view of the oatmeal ones.

"Merry Christmas from the neighbor," she said.


End file.
